


We don't fear the grim.

by EldritchCadence



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Addiction, Blood, Gen, Horrorterrors - Freeform, Oneshot, Suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5696014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchCadence/pseuds/EldritchCadence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Lalonde has never felt so out of control in her life.<br/>Coincidentally, she has also never felt better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We don't fear the grim.

**Author's Note:**

> A revamp of a fic I did in 2013. Things might change slightly as it becomes not-4 AM.  
> Go team.

She felt it.

Intangible, indescribable, and oh, God, she loved it.

**Seer**

_**Lalonde ******_

**The light**

_reverse_

They whispered her name contemptuously, broken letters falling from disagreeable mouths. They shouted their orders as though trying to speak over a hurricane- forceful, garbled, incomplete. She responded with gleeful abandon. The needles in her hands pulsed thrillingly as their voices reverberated down them and curled around her nerves, burrowed deep into her bones, shook out her skin like dusty curtains under an unforgiving sun.

She finally understood. Alcoholics, drug and gambling addicts, she fell into the patterns they fell into. She rehearsed the waves that drove from their heads as the conductor of an orchestra would, and each practice was a full performance. She fully comprehended the ebb and flow that now pulled her along, knew exactly how to put a stop to it, but.

But.

Why would she?

How wonderful it was, to be a puppet and not have to do anything they didn't tell you- they who was and were she and existed far beyond and into this universe. How fascinating and unique, to be so completely in and out of control at the same time.

Perhaps, she thought with amusement, this was what her mother felt like as she died. For surely Rose was dying as she lived. Her soul was ripping apart at the seams, bleeding out jagged black tendrils that sluggishly dripped onto everything that was and had existence. The tentacles writhed in their excitement, and she idly wondered what had happened to allow such a corruption into her body. It was too much for one human to hold, obviously, so where would it go as she died? Maybe she would get to see. That would be nice.

The voices shaped, offering in thin reedy tones the power she knew she would never live to see, and the price she would pay with her actions.

_kill the light, seer._

**Kill yourself, seer.**

She laughed, staring inquisitively at the thorns in her hands. Such beautiful colors. Purple completed her- it had been a part of her life for so long, long enough to forget why. And black… Well, that was all too easy to guess. She unleashed a wave of darkness with another light chuckle, and the thunder and wind swirling around her seemed to agree with her actions. A Rosestorm, she realized. Everything was funny now.

** Dead yet? **

_**A feisty one, indeed. Not dead.**_

_not dead, not dead, the first young one in a millennia, more than a thousand, a million times younger than us_

**not**

_**dead.** _

A pause in their thinking, made up of an average of a billion human hesitations. Made for her to realize it was there.

**Why is she making that happy face?**

_this is all wrong. there's something wrong with her._

**_Something right, you mean. We only pulled out what was there all along._**

This bores me. We all knew what would happen.

**_Yes, yes, but isn't it fun_ **

_to_

**pretend?**

The part of Rose that remained recognized easily yet another attempt to manipulate her- to paint the Horrorterrors as people, to mess with her mind- but somehow, she didn't really care.

She dwelled for a moment on that. It was out of place for her to simply not care about anything, regardless of her normal outward projections. The remainder of her brain that screamed _still-human-still-human_ pounded forcibly against the rest of itself, throwing up images of John and Jade and Dave in frantic pulses, scattering, racing through her memories to show her that there was still more light than darkness.

She discarded these thoughts- and an unfortunate nearby forest- with a flick of her wrist, and she felt the power thrumming in her breastbone. Blood would run deep cuts through the rivers and tint the rain itself. The sticky, slow globs that fell dripping from her feet pooled into shadowy tombs for beings that called such things home. The light meant nothing. Those children she called her friends meant even less.

**_Isn't it much nicer here?_ **

_of what use is anyone but you?_

I suppose we shall miss you, she who was once a Seer of the Light.

She giggled childishly and readied her thorns. The world shook under the weight of the power she held in the palms of her hands. For once in her life, Rose Lalonde was out of control, and she planned to enjoy it.

Whatever it took.


End file.
